The Treasure of Como Bluff Read online

  That explained the pain. He lifted his hand again, but she slapped it away lightly. “Don’t touch it! I worked hard on those stitches.”

  He dropped his hand. “All right, so you found me. Then...?”

  “Jasper and I dragged you back to the cabin.”

  He grimaced, and the pain in his head flared. Dragged? No wonder every inch of his body felt like it had been kicked by an angry gnome wearing hobnailed boots.

  Caroline rolled her big, blue eyes as if she’d read his thoughts. “We didn’t drag you on the ground; we used a travois.”

  “A travois?”

  “It’s a kind of litter devised by the Indians. I use it for carrying bones.”

  He stared at her in confusion. Despite her dusty skirt and bedraggled hair, she bore little resemblance to a buffalo hunter, so what was she doing dragging bones around?

  His expression must have given him away again. A dimple appeared beside her soft, full lips, and she looked as though she were struggling not to laugh. “I’m a paleontologist,” she said. “A scientist who studies dinosaurs. I dig their bones out of the cliff.”

  Understanding dawned. Dinosaurs. Ancient lizards. “I’ve read about them.”

  She nodded with enthusiasm. “I send the bones back east to the Peabody Museum at Yale University.”

  For the past several years, the papers had been full of stories about discoveries of dinosaur bones, including pictures. Some of the skeletons were huge. The enormous bones must be heavy, but he hadn’t seen or heard anyone else around the cabin. “Do you live out here alone?”

  “Not entirely; I have Jasper.”

  “Your husband?”

  “My mule.” This time she smiled without hesitation, and his insides did a funny little dance.

  “Aren’t you concerned about safety?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m safe enough. I carry a pistol to the dig site in case I run into a rattlesnake or other predator.”

  She might be armed, but he doubted Miss Caroline Hubbard was as tough as she made out. However, he was in no condition to argue. His head still hurt like the devil, but the fog in his brain was dissipating, and he still had questions. “What happened to me?”

  “It appeared your horse might have been spooked by a rattler and run off after dumping you on your head.”

  “I don’t have a horse?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I saw.”

  For the first time, he glanced down at his chest and arms. “I don’t seem to have any clothes, either.”

  “Oh, I took those off.” At his raised brow, she continued in a defensive tone, “I had to examine you for injuries.”

  The thought of this prim little scientist removing his clothes and examining his body almost brought a smile in spite of the pain in his head. “Did you find anything interesting?”

  Caroline straightened her spine. “You do not appear to have any other injuries.”

  “Good. Now, if you’ll help me sit up, I need a drink.”

  Her brows drew together in a stern frown. “I do not keep strong spirits.”

  “At the moment, I’ll take water.” Although a shot of something stronger didn’t sound half bad.

  “I have water, of course.” A rosy flush suffused her cheeks. “Lie still and I’ll get you some.”

  His gaze followed her across the room to a tall barrel by the open doorway. She returned with a tin cup and knelt beside him. Sliding her arm behind his head, she brought the cup to his lips. The tepid water tasted better than the finest whiskey on his parched tongue. When he finished, he collapsed back against the flour sack with a sigh and closed his eyes.

  “How do you feel?” Caroline asked.

  “Better, I think.”

  She set the cup aside. “Good. The cut on your head doesn’t look too bad, but you should rest until we’re sure there’s been no damage from the blow itself.”

  “I can’t lie on your floor for hours.”

  “I agree. A few hours will tell us nothing. It may take several days before you’re able to travel.”

  Her assessment stopped him cold. When he could travel, where would he go? And how would he get there without a horse? If only he could remember what he was doing in Como Bluff. Caroline Hubbard obviously didn’t know him, and he felt certain Wyoming wasn’t home.

  “Do you remember anything?”

  He closed his eyes, but all he saw was a swirl of images—a big white house by the sea, a tall ship with many masts, a beautiful blonde woman. He felt a tug of recognition. Was she Lucinda?

  He opened his eyes and peered at Caroline. She looked so much like the mysterious woman in his memory. “Are you certain you’re not Lucinda?”

  She smiled and her dimple reappeared. “Absolutely positive.”

  “Let’s make sure,” he murmured.

  He reached up, slid a hand into her hair, and pulled her head down until their lips met.

  Chapter Three

  Caroline froze. Her first instinct was to jerk back, but she didn’t want to risk hurting him. Besides, his lips felt nice—smooth and firm. She’d been kissed before, but Wendell Peabody’s lips had been moist and a little squishy. She’d cut that experience as short as possible. This was different. Nicholas Bancroft had lovely warm, dry lips. And he seemed to know what to do with them instead of sucking like a dying fish. Nicholas’s kiss was not at all unpleasant.

  Then his fingers tightened against her head, and his tongue brushed her lips. A tingle raced through her before her mind rebelled. What was he doing? The man was engaged or possibly even married! Perhaps he was out of his mind with fever. She reached up and touched his forehead.

  “Ouch!” He released her and scowled.

  Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot the stitches.”

  “You forgot? Not five minutes ago you were fussing at me to be careful with them.”

  Then he smiled, and the tingle returned to her belly. She’d never felt that tickling sensation before, and the scientist in her was tempted to explore it a bit further.

  “I supposed I should be flattered my kisses have the power to wipe all thought from a woman’s mind.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. She was a woman of reason, not some flutterbrain to be laid low by a mere tingle. Besides, there was Lucinda to consider. Nicholas Bancroft might have forgotten her, but Caroline hadn’t. “Sir-”

  “Call me Nick.”

  “Is that your name?”

  “It might be. At any rate, it’s better than Sir.”

  She sat back on her heels to put more distance between them. His skin was pale beneath his tan, accentuating the black threads in his forehead. But even injured, he was far too charming for his, or her, own good. She would have to set some ground rules. “Very well, Nick. If you are to remain here until you recover, we must come to an understanding. There will be no more familiarities of that sort. Agreed?”

  His twinkling blue eyes belied his somber expression. “If you say so.”

  She wasn’t sure that constituted a bargain, but it would have to do for the time being. She preferred to avoid the subject of Lucinda because that would force her to admit she’d been snooping. With luck he would remember in his own time. “Good. I’ll get you some more water then fix supper. Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “It won’t be much,” she warned. “It’s too hot to start a fire.”

  “Whatever you have will be fine.”

  Caroline rose and crossed the room to the pair of empty crates that made up her makeshift kitchen. After rustling around, she returned carrying two tin plates with cold biscuits and beans. “It’ll be cooler in the morning, and I’ll fry some eggs and bacon.”

  Nick had pulled himself to a sitting position with his back against the rough-sawn boards of the wall. He took the plate she offered. “This is fine. I don’t have much appetite anyway.”

  She perched on a three-legged stool next to him with her plate. “H
ow’s your head?”

  “It hurts.”

  “I expect it does. Maybe tomorrow you’ll remember more.”

  He drank another cup of water and managed to down half a biscuit before handing his plate back. “I’m afraid I can’t eat more now. I hate to be unsociable, but I think I need sleep more than anything.”

  Caroline took the plate. “Of course. Let me help you up, and we’ll get you to bed.”

  Nick shook his head and winced, closing his eyes. “I won’t put you out of your bed. The floor’s fine.”

  “Nonsense. You need proper rest to regain your strength. You will sleep in the bed.” She reached for his elbow. “Now come along.”

  He lifted his chin and met her gaze. “Has anyone ever told you bossiness is not an attractive quality in a woman?”

  She laughed. “My brother, Arthur, felt it his duty to point that out every day while we were growing up.”

  “And I take it you ignored him.”

  “I gave the comment the consideration it deserved.”

  Nick staggered to his feet with Caroline grasping his elbow. “Tomorrow, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The bed was little more than a cot, but it must have sufficed. His eyes closed the minute his head hit the pillow, and he was snoring softly by the time she drew the muslin sheet over his chest.

  ****

  Nick stretched and opened one eye. Every muscle ached, and he still had an occasional dull throb from the cut on his forehead, but the fog in his brain had cleared. He still couldn’t remember the accident, but he remembered everything else: his name, his plan to strike it rich prospecting for silver, and Lucinda.

  Some memories were better left forgotten.

  He wondered how long he’d slept. It must be morning, because light streamed through the open doorway of the tiny lean-to that served as a bedroom, and bright slivers pierced the walls between the boards. The sound of soft feminine humming drifted in from the main room of the cabin, along with the clatter of metal.

  Moments later, Caroline Hubbard poked her head through the doorway. She’d brushed her hair and pinned it up in a neat golden coronet, her face glowed from a recent scrubbing, and her serviceable skirt and blouse were fresh and clean. She might not be a paragon of fashion, but her blue eyes snapped with sharp intelligence and purpose. How could he have ever thought she resembled Lucinda? It must have been the head injury.

  “Oh, good. You’re awake. I’ll bring your breakfast,” she said in a brisk, no-nonsense tone.

  Nick had more immediate needs than food. “I need to get up.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “That’s not a good idea. You’ve suffered a concussion.”

  He was a bit wobbly on his feet but managed to stand. “Right now, my head is the least of my worries. I need to find the necessary, unless you’ve got a pot you’re not using.”

  He bit back a smile. Caroline might fancy herself a scientist, but her cheeks pinked like a schoolgirl.

  “Oh, of course. It’s out back. I’ll help you.” She reached for his arm.

  At that he grinned, and the pink in her cheeks deepened to the color of ripe apples.

  “I’ll help you outside,” she clarified. “After that, you’re on your own.”

  He took a couple of steps and felt steadier. “I can make it, but when I get back, I’d trouble you for some soap and water and the rest of my clothes.”

  “Absolutely.”

  When Nick returned from the outhouse, Caroline had set out a pitcher, bowl, towel, and lump of soap on the washstand. His shirt and pants were spread on the bed, and his boots stood ready. He wondered why his coat lay in pieces, but when he checked the pocket, he was relieved to find his nest egg intact. Not that he suspected Caroline of thievery, but he needed that stake to start his new life.

  The cool water on his face splashed the last of the cobwebs from his mind. After he’d rinsed the remaining sweat and grime from his body, he felt almost human. And he was starving.

  Caroline’s bacon and scrambled eggs tasted like manna from heaven, and Nick wondered how long it had been since he’d eaten.

  “I’m glad to see you have such a good appetite,” she said between bites. “You must be feeling better.”

  He downed a slug of hot, black coffee with satisfaction. “I am. And I haven’t thanked you for what you did.”

  She smiled, and her dimples deepened. “You’re welcome. But anyone would have done the same.”

  He snorted. “Don’t be so sure.”

  “You obviously know the wrong sort of people.”

  If only she knew. “Can’t argue with you there.”

  “Do you remember any more today?” she asked before finishing off a crisp slice of bacon.

  He wasn’t sure how much to share. Caroline Hubbard seemed straightforward and sincere, but he didn’t know her, and he’d fallen prey to a pretty face before. “A bit, but nothing about the accident. I remember my name, though.”

  Her face brightened. “That’s a good start. Is it Nick?

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any idea why you came to Wyoming?”

  She was a scientist, not a claim jumper, but until he knew more, he decided to play his cards close to the vest. “I remember a four-masted schooner.”

  She raised a brow. “Well, you certainly didn’t sail here.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. He’d never known a woman with her intelligence and quick wit.

  She cocked her head and seemed to be sizing him up. “A four-masted schooner, you say? You seem to know a great deal about ships. Perhaps at some point in the past you were a sailor, or even a ship’s captain. That would explain the shade of your skin and the calluses on your hands.”

  Her powers of deductive reasoning had led straight to the truth. Unnerved, he simply shrugged. “It’s possible. Maybe the rest will come back later.”

  That seemed to pacify her. She leaned forward and patted his hand. “I’m sure it will. I’ve heard that often happens after a blow to the head.”

  Caroline finished her last bite and gathered the plates. “Since you’re doing so much better, I hope you won’t mind if I leave you for a few hours. Yesterday afternoon I uncovered a very unusual ridge of vertebrae. It might be an entirely new species, and I need to get the bones out of the ground before Cope’s minions beat me to them.”

  “Are you in some kind of race?”

  She carried the dishes to a wooden bucket and began scrubbing. “You might call it that. I’m collecting specimens for Professor O.C. Marsh of Yale University, and those rascals Harlow and Edwards are trying to snatch all the best fossils for Professor Cope at the University of Pennsylvania. I guess you could say the professors are in a race. Some might even call it a war.”

  “What’s the prize?”

  She turned with a tin plate in her hand and a look of surprise on her face. “The opportunity to make a significant contribution to science, of course.”

  “For you and the professors, possibly. Are Harlow and Edwards paleontologists, too?”

  She picked up a towel and started drying. “Hardly. They’re supposed to be employees of the railroad, although I don’t know where they find the time.”

  “It’s difficult to believe a couple of railroad men are motivated by science.”

  “Hmmph,” she sniffed. “As far as I can tell, those two are only motivated by money.”

  “Does bone hunting pay well?”

  “Enough to encourage them to blast the mountain to bits trying to get more bones out faster.”

  He’d also come to Wyoming to extract treasure from the rock, although he’d had something shinier in mind. Caroline wasn’t prospecting for silver, but digging up dinosaurs might not be all that different. Perhaps he could learn something. “I take it you don’t approve of their methods.”

  She bent and stacked the plates on one of the crates, offering Nick a view of shapely hips barely disguised by her ca
lico skirt. “A true paleontologist removes specimens from the surrounding rock slowly and carefully. Harlow and Edwards just blow things up. They destroy as many fossils as they excavate.”

  “How does their employer feel about that?”

  She shrugged. “Professor Cope may not care. The deposits here are so rich they ship crate-loads back to Pennsylvania every few weeks.”

  “I’d be interested to see these fossils. How would you like an assistant?”

  Chapter Four

  “You don’t know anything about paleontology,” she protested.

  “You could teach me. I’m a quick learner.”

  Nicholas Bancroft’s smile would have brought a lesser woman to her knees, but Caroline was built of sterner stuff. At least she hoped she was.

  She frowned and assessed him from head to toe. He offered a tempting proposition. Working alone, she struggled to keep ahead of Harlow and Edwards. She could use a man’s strength to help excavate and move the finds. Nick did look better than yesterday, but he’d suffered a serious blow to the head less than twenty-four hours ago, and the day promised to be a scorcher. “You’d be better off remaining here. You still need rest.”

  He flashed another charming smile that brought back the troubling tingle from the day before, and her frown deepened. She’d never be able to work with the constant distraction.

  “I’m feeling much better, and I’m interested to see your work,” he said.

  “It’s too hot, and you don’t have a hat or a horse.”

  “I’m sure your mule—Jasper, was it?—can carry us both.”

  Caroline raised both brows. “I’d like to see you persuade him.”

  A crooked grin full of even, white teeth slashed across the tan of his face. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I can be very persuasive.”

  I’ll just bet you can.

  Then she had an idea. She went into the bedroom, slid her small trunk from under the bed, and found what she was looking for. She returned to the main room dangling a faded red sunbonnet by its strings. “There is still the issue of a hat. If you’re determined to come with me, and you can persuade Jasper to cooperate, you can wear this.”

  Nick’s eyes crinkled at the corners, but he kept a straight face. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving you.”